


Devour

by colonelborkmundus



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Gen, Guardian Forces, Meta, character abilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-15
Updated: 2011-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-27 09:03:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/294039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colonelborkmundus/pseuds/colonelborkmundus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Squall, Cactuar Island, the Devour ability, and an excess of leather.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devour

**Author's Note:**

> This bit of crack is brought to you by the post-work White Russian I threw away. And by threw away, I mean poured down my throat. Lovingly beta’d by Eric. Also, a gift for him :)

They flew the Ragnarok to a small, tiny island just east of the Kashkabald Desert, where it was rumored one could find a giant cactus with a peculiar habit of disappearing and reappearing on an entirely different part of the island: that is, Jumbo Cactuar, the mustachioed cactuar of Guardian Force lore.

They needed all the help they could get, Guardian Forces, magic, and all, if they were to stand a chance at ending the war.

Ideally, the whole mission would have been a quick, painless one -- but if there was anything the gang of SeeDs (plus two) learned, it was that their journey so far was anything but quick and painless. Why should there be an exception to the rule?

The main party consisted of none other than Squall, Selphie, and Rinoa. The other stayed behind on the ship, ready for backup should they be required.

The desert was hot -- so painfully hot and dry and arid that sweat beaded on their brows and pooled in funny places, like the back of the knees. Whereas the interior of the Ragnarok was somewhat stale and air conditioned, Cactuar Island was like walking around a frying pan with sand instead of non-stick metal.

The abundance of sand, sweat, and dry heat made the search for this Guardian Force an arduous mission indeed, both physically and mentally.

The Cactuars they kept running into didn’t help, either. If they didn’t run away the first chance they got, they sprayed needles -- NEEDLES! -- and then ran away. 

Pesky green buggers.

Selphie could’ve sworn her brains were scrambling inside her pretty little skull. The truth was, maybe the heat    
was   
getting to all of them. 

Rinoa, the poor sorceress, looked so exhausted, her feet growing heavy with every battle and every step.

Squall, the model mercenary, was not looking the part. He looked beyond out of it; there was a crazed look in his eye. It must have been the leather he was wearing. Out of all of them, Squall was most definitely the least appropriately dressed for this mission.

“Watch out!” Selphie shrieked as a Cactuar suddenly erupted from its sandy lair, sensing intruders. 

Squall growled. “This one’s mine.”

Before the Cactuar could let loose a thick stream of needles, Squall stepped forward, his face darkening with a hungry, ferocious look, his gunblade raised, ready to strike.

The offending Cactuar was cleaved right in two, but that wasn’t the end of it.

“Squall,” Rinoa started, growing with concern. “Are you--”

She never finished her sentence; it quickly died on her lips.

They were left to watch in abject horror as Squall approached the Cactuar remains and began butchering it using a combination of his hands and his weapon, then consuming his work.

He was about halfway through the Cactuar when he paused to look at his party. 

Bits of gooey green cactus flesh decorated the corners of his mouth. He had a look of disappointment to him. “Tastes okay,” he said.

“Tastes okay? TASTES OKAY? You’re bloody mad, Squall!” 

It was not long after this incident that they had their first encounter with the Jumbo Cactuar. 

\---

Still, it was an incident not lightly forgotten.

Squall suffered the worst out there in the desert. He suffered not only the brunt of their injuries but the loss of his pride -- the price of obtaining Jumbo Cactuar’s allegiance.

As he lay in the Ragnarok’s infirmary bay, tended to by Quistis, the most experienced battle medic of the lot, Selphie and Rinoa shared details of the incident to both Irvine and Zell in the cockpit above. 

“Stop it, you guys,” said Zell. “You’re making me hungry.”


End file.
